


If Weather Was Described Like Porn Titles- Wet and Wild

by Rhidee



Category: Original Work
Genre: Erotica, Other, POV Second Person, Storms, You just get it on with the weather idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 03:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18327491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhidee/pseuds/Rhidee
Summary: That's right, now YOU can have an erotically incomprehensible experience with the weather from the comfort of your own home!Note- second person character has breasts but nothing's said about the crotch, interpret this as you wish





	If Weather Was Described Like Porn Titles- Wet and Wild

The wind whirls around, raindrops clattering into your skin with the neutral force of nature. You're suspended, moving so fast its almost as if you're still, the view around you incomprehensible in it's sharp flashes of light and shifting, shouting dark. Your ears roar with nature's greatest song, and you feel like you're apart of it, as natural to the storm as the winds moving the trees or the rain buffeting houses, miles and miles below. 

You're naked, a startling fact, but how could clothes matter at a time like this, when you have as much control as a leaf in the breeze, feeling almost lit up with nature's attentions. The shifting wind cradles you, holds you fierce, and you shiver in the strength of your feelings. 

You think that maybe, the storm could come inside you, crash against your insides like waves against a lighthouse, grip your breasts and press against your mouth in a way both familiar and new. But it doesn't, because a storm has no human conceptions of form, barely a conception of humans even, dropping hail without care like glitter in a gays wake. 

Maybe you feel it, moving against your crotch, or maybe that just blends with the complete press everywhere else, as your body takes in the sensation with a wild glee rarely felt. Miles below, hail hits metal and creates a tapping, a sound heard by those nearby, but in the air your sounds are masked and blended. 

You peak with the storm, shaking like the trees, hands reaching to grasp something beyond your instincts and yet so close. The rain fades, slow and almost gentle, you close your eyes as the droplets hitting your skin shift to a cool drizzle. 

The wind shakes your hair gently, like a goodbye. 

And you wake up. 

Crickets begin to chirp again, as the last of the rain slides down the leaves of trees, off the roofs of houses, into the ground soaking it up like a lovers touch. 

Your bed is cool, damp. 

It smells like freshly fallen rain. 

You are content, and slightly, ever so slightly, aware.


End file.
